Critical popcorn

I think it’s fair to say that Reece Shearsmith and Steve Pemberton take a fairly misanthropic view of society as a whole. Previous episodes have shown that while individual people are capable of acts of heart-warming kindness, groups are frequently shown to be venal, easily led and often paranoid.

This herd mentality was demonstrated in Boo To A Goose and earlier episodes like La Couchette and The Trial Of Elizabeth Gadge and it’s present here in Mulberry Close, the latest episode of Inside No.9. Recalling the hysteria generated in The Twilight Zone episodes The Monsters Are Due On Maple Street and The Shelter, and the Doctor Who episode Midnight, it paints a similarly dim picture of suburban communities.

The whole episode is told from the point of view of a doorcam, belonging to newly arrived couple Damon (Reece Shearsmith) and Val (Vinette Robinson). Documenting their first few days in their new home, the doorcam picks up the overbearing, closeknit community of busybodies – pompous couple Kenny and Sheila (Steve Pemberton and Dorothy Atkinson) and the mild mannered dogwalker Larry (Adrian Scarborough). As tensions rise, a series of suspicious noises and bumps in the night rouse the suspicions of the neighbours, who become convinced that something terrible has happened behind closed doors.

This premise, and indeed the way the story unfolds, will be familiar to anyone who has seen Rear Window, or more specifically, the Rear Window parody in The Simpsons, but that hardly matters at this point. This is another episode, like last season’s Love Is A Stranger, where, if it lived or died on it’s twist, then it probably wouldn’t be so successful, but there’s so much going on within the episode that it gets away with it. It’s not that the twist is necessarily obvious, but more that we are so primed to expect the unexpected by now, that the minute it seems apparent where the story is headed, we immediately begin second-guessing it. At this point in the series’ run, the creators are clearly having fun teasing the audience as to where the episodes are heading, while still retaining their ability to foreshadow the twists and turns early on. There are a few instances of creepy imagery here that serve as red herrings – the spider in close-up, the ominous trick or treater, that all lead you down several blind alleys, while the actual clues are subtly hidden in the dialogue.

Where the episode is strongest is in the execution, making use of technical innovation in a similar way to Thinking Out Loud and Cold Comfort. On the surface it seems a relatively simple episode to film, with one fixed camera, but what I enjoyed about it is the way the entire screen is utlilised. Tiny details in the background make the episode a lot more complicated than it initially appears. The way the lights turn on and then quickly off again in Kenny and Sheila’s house, as they peer out the window at the unfurling drama, creates an authentic sense of constant surveillance. There’s one moment in particular that is up there with the more chilling images in Inside No.9, where a distant figure just stands perfectly still, watching the camera.

It’s both a homage to and inversion of the films of Alfred Hitchcock and Brian De Palma. It’s a tale of literal curtain twitchers prying into their neighbours’ lives, but unlike the voyeuristic, invasive nature of something like Rear Window or Body Double this story is told exclusively from the point of view of the house itself, where all we can see is those who are looking in. It’s a canny move, creating some genuine suspense, and making the events happening inside number nine even more ambiguous, reduced completely to raised voices and sinister sound effects.

The performances are beautifully observed, with the petty grievances of a small community all feeling very true to life. Kenny’s first line: “one for the winter newsletter I think” is as perfect an introduction to the couple as possible, summing up their little England mentality beautifully and succinctly.

The show creators continue the trend of casting former Psychoville actors, following on from Mark Bonnar in Boo To A Goose, with the casting of Mr Jelly himself (No wait, make that Mr Jolly) Adrian Scarborough. I don’t entirely buy his character progression but Scarborough makes Larry the episodes most memorable character, instantly endearing as a timid man who seems genuinely worried for his new neighbours.

Dorothy Atkinson gives a subtle variation of her snobbish character from Mum – passive-aggressive, uptight and yet still decidedly human. The uncertain little steps she does when Sheila realises she is the butt of a joke make you feel momentarily sorry for her, before she ruins it by being an appalling human being once again.

What I loved most about this one is the way both sides have a point. Yes the neighbours are gossipy busybodies, who massively overstep their boundaries, but all the actors manage to temper the more intrusive aspects of their characters with a genuine concern that is sometimes quite touching. Also, Shearsmith’s character is incredibly unpleasant to his neighbours from their very first meeting, and the episode never totally lets him off the hook. He does however, get a wonderfully funny outburst towards the end, with one of the most satisfying utterances of “F*** OFF!” I’ve heard in a while.

Mulberry Close is a triumph, and a welcome bit of (relative) light relief after the bleakness of the first two episodes. It might seem a bit gimmicky, and a bit light on characterisation, but it’s all in service to the narrative. It’s one of the most technically innovative episodes the series has attempted, with an appropriately nasty conclusion and a final stinger to rivals last years Paraskevidekatriaphobia in terms of sheer laugh-out-loud comedy, complete with a surprise voice cameo.

Inside No. 9 has returned! Catch up now on iPlayer – and check out my previous Series Blog here